being in the trap all night. He opened his eyes and looked at the red digital numbers on the clock, which read 10:03. He flipped over on his back, the bed sheet covering him from the waist down.
“I’m listenin’,” he said.
“I’m pregnant.”
Another deep breath followed a muffled growl.
“You think it’s mine?”
“It’s a strong possibility.”
“Where you at now?” he asked.
“At Red Bone’s house. I’ma be stayin’ here fo’ a while.”
“Why you leave yo’ mama’s house?”
“‘Cause I’m pregnant.”
Danté sat up and cut on the light. Frowning, he stood up and yawned, making a raged animal sound.
“I’m finna come get cha, okay?”
“Alright.”
He hung up and sat back on the bed. It took him a few minutes to collect his thoughts. He knew he had slept with Summer three nights in a row, and each time he didn’t use a condom. But how many other niggas has she been fuckin’? he thought to himself.
A week later, the test results came back, and it was confirmed that Danté was indeed the father. Relieved, Summer breathed a little more easily.
As Danté sat next to her in the doctor’s office, he looked at Summer for a moment, and with a half grin, he said, “I’m glad we got dat straight.”
“Why you say dat?” she asked, but gave a smile of relief.
Danté stood up, his Guess jeans sagging and revealing dark green silk boxers. He wore a wife beater that showed off his small, chiseled frame. Her eyes followed him. She liked his physique, his thick veins bulging through his arms.
She stood up beside him. “You neva did answer me.”
“I’m jus’ glad it’s straight, dat’s all,” he said, then quickly changed the subject. “I know Rodney gonna trip out,” he added.
Summer didn’t respond. She knew her brother Rodney was close to Danté; they were both three years older than her. Danté respected Rodney and knew he had to respect his little sister.
Since they were finished at the doctor’s office, she grabbed his hand, and they left together. When they got inside Danté’s Cutlass, he started the engine and turned the volume down on his system.
“You ain’t stayin’ at Red Bone’s crib either,” he simply said.
Chapter 8
The Christmas tree stood six feet tall and was neatly decorated with multi-colored lights that blinked from the top to the bottom. Underneath it were several presents in green and red wrapping paper. The house they were now living in was located in a quiet subdivision called Farrington. Danté figured if he was going to be a father, he didn’t want to be living in the same neighborhood where he handled his business. He knew Barton Village had gotten out of control, and he’d help contribute to the cause. This was the end of 1990, and he’d had a good summer there almost profiting five thousand a night. He’d done well for himself. The three bedrooms cost almost seventy thousand, which he put seven grand down on, and the house was in Summer’s name. They lived together; she was happy and so was he. Their relationship just kind of developed. In our terminology, they clicked.
Upstairs, their master bedroom was decorated with expensive wood furniture from Rhodes. The bed was king-sized with hand-carved bedposts that almost touched the ceiling. Polo pillowcases and sheets lined the bed. A Sony forty-inch TV with an attached VCR faced them. The dresser sat against the right wall, polished to a beautiful shine with shiny brass handles. The mirror was nearly five feet wide and just as high.
Summer lay on her side. This was a very comfortable position for her considering she was already six months into her pregnancy. She snuggled up against Danté, who was asleep, but he drew her closer and held on to her. The baby kicked. He didn’t feel it, but she asked him if he had anyway. After telling her no in his half asleep state, he found her lips and kissed her softly. She forced her tongue inside
“I’m listenin’,” he said.
“I’m pregnant.”
Another deep breath followed a muffled growl.
“You think it’s mine?”
“It’s a strong possibility.”
“Where you at now?” he asked.
“At Red Bone’s house. I’ma be stayin’ here fo’ a while.”
“Why you leave yo’ mama’s house?”
“‘Cause I’m pregnant.”
Danté sat up and cut on the light. Frowning, he stood up and yawned, making a raged animal sound.
“I’m finna come get cha, okay?”
“Alright.”
He hung up and sat back on the bed. It took him a few minutes to collect his thoughts. He knew he had slept with Summer three nights in a row, and each time he didn’t use a condom. But how many other niggas has she been fuckin’? he thought to himself.
A week later, the test results came back, and it was confirmed that Danté was indeed the father. Relieved, Summer breathed a little more easily.
As Danté sat next to her in the doctor’s office, he looked at Summer for a moment, and with a half grin, he said, “I’m glad we got dat straight.”
“Why you say dat?” she asked, but gave a smile of relief.
Danté stood up, his Guess jeans sagging and revealing dark green silk boxers. He wore a wife beater that showed off his small, chiseled frame. Her eyes followed him. She liked his physique, his thick veins bulging through his arms.
She stood up beside him. “You neva did answer me.”
“I’m jus’ glad it’s straight, dat’s all,” he said, then quickly changed the subject. “I know Rodney gonna trip out,” he added.
Summer didn’t respond. She knew her brother Rodney was close to Danté; they were both three years older than her. Danté respected Rodney and knew he had to respect his little sister.
Since they were finished at the doctor’s office, she grabbed his hand, and they left together. When they got inside Danté’s Cutlass, he started the engine and turned the volume down on his system.
“You ain’t stayin’ at Red Bone’s crib either,” he simply said.
Chapter 8
The Christmas tree stood six feet tall and was neatly decorated with multi-colored lights that blinked from the top to the bottom. Underneath it were several presents in green and red wrapping paper. The house they were now living in was located in a quiet subdivision called Farrington. Danté figured if he was going to be a father, he didn’t want to be living in the same neighborhood where he handled his business. He knew Barton Village had gotten out of control, and he’d help contribute to the cause. This was the end of 1990, and he’d had a good summer there almost profiting five thousand a night. He’d done well for himself. The three bedrooms cost almost seventy thousand, which he put seven grand down on, and the house was in Summer’s name. They lived together; she was happy and so was he. Their relationship just kind of developed. In our terminology, they clicked.
Upstairs, their master bedroom was decorated with expensive wood furniture from Rhodes. The bed was king-sized with hand-carved bedposts that almost touched the ceiling. Polo pillowcases and sheets lined the bed. A Sony forty-inch TV with an attached VCR faced them. The dresser sat against the right wall, polished to a beautiful shine with shiny brass handles. The mirror was nearly five feet wide and just as high.
Summer lay on her side. This was a very comfortable position for her considering she was already six months into her pregnancy. She snuggled up against Danté, who was asleep, but he drew her closer and held on to her. The baby kicked. He didn’t feel it, but she asked him if he had anyway. After telling her no in his half asleep state, he found her lips and kissed her softly. She forced her tongue inside
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